


Strained

by CyrexWingblade



Series: Institute of War Setting [1]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: AU, F/M, Institute of War, League of Legends - Freeform, Old Lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27410710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrexWingblade/pseuds/CyrexWingblade
Summary: Shyvana fights for Demacia, but is she really welcome? As this weighs on her, an unexpected friend may be her real answer.
Series: Institute of War Setting [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2004277
Kudos: 3





	Strained

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is set in the old LoL lore, featuring the Institute of War and the in-character League of Legends, with the Summoners.

Strained. That was the word for this emotional sensation, she realized. Shyvana never brooked weakness, especially not her own. Perhaps the ‘home’ she’d found in Demacia was turning her soft after all? That would have to stop.

Years she had served Jarvan IV, and while his respect was clear and consistent, the soldiers, the court, his ‘people’ still treated her with a carefully managed fear and distance. This wasn’t a home. It was better than the endless pursuit that had led to her father’s death, but it was not the home she’d hoped for in the back of her mind when Jarvan offered her a place at his side.

A natural wake formed for Shyvana as she entered the League hall. A simple match was scheduled, and she’d been requested by Summoner Sylus Hale. There was a whisper of contentment at this, because in all her time in the League, all her time with Jarvan, only this particular summoner really made her feel respected. There was even a childish surge in the summoner’s thoughts when she transformed to her dragon state once they re-achieved it during a match. He almost shared her own thrill and exhilaration of that blasting rush of fire and power.

That whisper was quickly silenced by her instincts, however. Too many summoners, too little time, and far too many matches.

She was greeted with fearful respect by the attendants outside the summoning chamber. There her real body rested while the match went on, the gestalt entity that shared her shape inside the match sharing as much of herself as the summoner.

Shyvana found herself giving a dry look to one attendant who was fussing over the cushions Shyvana’s arms were resting on in the chair. The attendant paled, bowed, and hurried away. Shyvana blinked, shook her head, and lay it back. A cushioned chair to prepare for battle… such absurdities this league created.

* * *

Sylus’ presence became clear to her as she felt the pull and wash of the summoning. It always took a few minutes, and spurred her respect for the role the summoners had to play. The forces required to pull and conjure a being into a world that almost didn’t exist truly boggled her mind. Give her a foe she could sink her fangs into or scorch to cinders.

_Greetings, Shyvana. Are you doing well today?_

_Greetings, summoner_ , she chose to be proper rather than familiar. They’d used names on occasion, but she just didn’t want to give that whisper any fuel right now. _I am. Why do you ask?_

_I don’t wish to presume. I thought I felt a sense of… well no matter. It appears we’ll be primarily fending off Annie today._

_Ah, the little witch is potent. This shall be satisfying._

_Glad to hear you’ll enjoy it. Unleash your fire with prejudice, Shyvana._

She knew she was smiling at his response, and she forced her face back to a calm battle-mask.

* * *

Color and light flowed into her vision once more, and she was in the Summoner’s Rift. As an odd turn, Miss Fortune was on her team, Shyvana noticed. Mordekaiser, Fizz, and Lux finished out their side of the battle.

Per Sylus’ subtle reminder, Shyvana purchased her usual items from the vendor at their circle, and proceeded to her preferred haunt while working with Sylus.

Starting a match always felt alien. So handicapped within her own skin. She had to control another smile as she felt agreement with Sylus on how to focus their development during this match. Burning flames that engulfed the air around her. She always liked choosing that first. It offered… well she didn’t want to call it ‘comfort’, but if the shoe fit…

It wasn’t too long before the minions (magical constructs she still pitied for their lot, she did her best to protect them when it was possible) arrived and battle was joined. Annie and whoever was summoning her worked well together, so the battle was exhilarating.

Though just an exhibition match, it was deeply cathartic. Especially with the frustrations of the recent days, Shyvana relished the battle. When she could finally manifest her true powers, she poured into her dragon shape and launched herself forward while igniting with fire.

It felt fantastic to cut loose so fully at last. Her wing-claws tore through her own flames and into Warwick on the enemy team, Annie trying to launch supporting spells over his head at Shyvana.

Even in that intense moment, Shyvana realized she felt it. Sylus’ rush of satisfaction so like her own. He felt that surge of air and fire, that strain of muscle and scales that felt so perfect.

_Magnificent._

Even in mid fire-breath, Shyvana knew she’d felt that sensation from him. Complete admiration and acceptance. He loved what she was doing. That moment, that shared pleasure, it was worth more than she could express to another.

That moment passed, and Warwick and Annie beat a retreat for the moment.

* * *

The battle went well. Shyvana had to aid a few of her fellows as the battle wore on, but they all showed themselves well. The opposing forces had done well, but not better, and lost. Especially satisfying, she was tearing into the enemy Nexus with her wing-claws in the end, able to enjoy and savor her full expression right up to the end of the battle. It was always the best way to end a match in her view.

As the summoning began to fade, she gave her summoner a casual goodbye. For some reason, his response lingered in her mind.

_Be well, my lady._

Shyvana’s eyes opened in the summoning chamber, her ashen skin tightening around her eyes. Something in that farewell… It made that whisper loud.

She shook her head free of such thoughts, and got out of the absurd chair before marching out and back to her… home.

* * *

In Demacia, she was quickly summoned by the prince. Taking her duty with all seriousness, she immediately marched through the castle’s halls, and soon found Jarvan IV, several of his soldiers, and Garen talking busily.

“You summoned, my lord?” Shyvana announced herself with a soft rattle of her crimson armor.

Jarvan turned to her. “Ah, Shyvana. Thank you for coming promptly. I could use your insight. Garen thinks I am being too staunch.”

Garen tipped his head. “You asked for my perspective, my lord.”

“On what matter?” Shyvana pushed the issue forward.

“After the disasters we’ve had, I’m seriously concerned of the value of the League, especially these Summoners. I don’t trust them.”

Shyvana twitched. The soldiers with her prince were quietly muttering agreement, clearly distrustful. Garen, whom she normally found caustically pompous, was the only one grim at the sentiment.

Her temper surprised even her. Not that she had it, but that she would snap at Jarvan himself. “Don’t be a fool! Come what may, the Summoners have created a tool we can use to settle matters quickly and decisively. Their only flaw is being a little too decisive in recent disasters, and the ones responsible for such atrocities have been dealt with quite severely, if I recall?”

Everyone was staring at her.

Shyvana swallowed and looked down. “Forgive my tone, prince.”

Jarvan chuckled. “I recall the main reason we work together is your passion for your decisions, Shyvana. I can’t fault you for the quality now. Tell me, however, what they have done to earn your respect?”

Shyvana cringed faintly, glancing aside. This topic was uncomfortable for many reasons, she realized. “I have worked with many summoners. While there are some who have selfish intentions, there are those…” Sylus… “there are those that believe in what they do as we do.” Looking Jarvan in the eye, she finished, “Just like any good soldiers.”

One soldier whispered loud enough, “I don’t trust any of those damn spell-weavers.”

Shyvana rounded on him, fire racing from her fists. “Those ‘damn spell-weavers’ have shown me more respect than your entire army, brat! They respect my power enough to request my presence to help their efforts! Or do you think I don’t smell the fear pouring off of you any time I walk by?”

Garen’s attention was locked on this moment, Jarvan simply seeming amused at his over-stepping soldier’s consequences.

Shyvana watched the soldier swallow thickly, but she retreated as well, glancing down again. “Forgive me, prince. I am… unsettled today. May I retire?”

“As you wish, Shyvana. Thank you for your insight.”

She bowed, and quickly walked away. She didn’t know Garen was watching her leave.

* * *

It was lighting the fire of her rage. It had just hit that critical point. This wasn’t a home. Too much fear, too much distrust. How far was that from the disgust of the other dragons? Shyvana found herself marching right back into the League hall before she really stopped to think about it.

A chronicle attendant was staring up at Shyvana in growing anxiety the next moment. “H-how can I help you, champion?”

“Summoner Sylus Hale. When does he usually come to the hall?”

She wanted to test it. Was this summoner someone who actually respected her as she hoped, or was it another mask over fear and disgust?

“S-Sylus Hale… one moment,” the woman requested meekly, quickly pouring over some books and scrolls.

Shyvana watched the woman get more nervous as she worked.

“I-I’m… I’m afraid I don’t have any logs for him, my lady. H-he doesn’t… he doesn’t ever actually come in.”

Shyvana’s eyes sharpened. “Never?”

“I-I mean I’m sure he comes in, on occasion, but I-I don’t have the logs specifically, and I have no scheduled appointments for him.”

“He had a match earlier today!” Shyvana snapped, leaning over the desk.

The attendant jerked, her hands trying to pat down on the desk after her nervous jump. “Y-yes, he did. I have record of that, but he didn’t come on. He uses channeling foci to summon for matches from wherever his home is.”

“Everything okay?”

Shyvana looked up with frustration at another attendant. “What do you want?”

The attendant seemed a bit anxious, but was putting on a pleasant mood. “Sorry to interrupt, but if you’re looking for a summoner, perhaps I can help?”

Shyvana twisted toward her, the woman at the desk sinking with relief. “Yes. Sylus Hale. Do you know when he usually comes to the hall?”

“Oh, I see why you’re frustrated then!” the attendant began. “I’m afraid he’s one of our summoners who rarely ever comes in. Honestly, if I recall correctly, the only time I actually heard of him being in the hall was for basic training as a summoner.” She started to smile. “Are you interested in meeting him?”

Shyvana gawked. The smile, the almost laughing eyes. This woman thought it was some dalliance or tryst!

Finally, the new attendant became nervous, seeing a dangerous light ignite in the dragon woman’s eyes. “I-I intended no offense, my lady.”

Shyvana clamped her jaw shut. “It’s nothing. Forget I asked about the fool. I simply want to check scheduling with him. If the idiot can’t even take the time to be in the hall, it’s no matter.” And she stormed off.

Both attendants were left sharing a relieved look.

* * *

The unexpected embarrassment hit deep. Shyvana didn’t want to come near the hall. If anyone started to whisper that she was just some love struck fool looking for a moonlight dalliance… The very idea made her want to set the world on fire.

A palace attendant approached her to the next day. “My lady?”

Shyvana turned, grim, but calm. “Yes?”

“A request has been sent for you at a League match.”

“The summoner?”

The attendant blinked. “F-forgive me, I had stopped asking, my lady. I-I shall go confirm!”

“If it’s Sylus Hale, I must decline.”

The attendant stuttered slightly, and then nodded, and hurried off.

Shyvana narrowed her eyes at the balustrade of the balcony where she was standing. Now she felt a coward. That hurt worse.

* * *

Riven had not intended to join a match that day. The escalating bitterness between Noxus and Demacia was weighing on her, and the last few matches had gone… less than well. They were victories, but the summoners had been aggravating to her sensibilities. Too eager for victory, no concern for consequences. It irked her.

She accepted for one reason. The summoner was Sylus Hale. She’d worked with him many times, and he had a quiet respect for the events that let her… she wanted to say ‘relax’ but that wasn’t quite right. Perhaps just the ease of sharing agreement with another. If he was asking for her assistance with a match, she would take the time.

The attendants at the summoning room were a bit wary of her, but were polite as always. She knew her large, if broken, blade intimidated them, but she never parted with it.

* * *

It was clear the moment the connection to Sylus was made that something was wrong. Riven felt a lingering pain in his presence she’d never noticed before.

_Summoner, are you alright?_

A string of concerns and questions rushed to her mind. It was the first time she’d felt a summoner’s full mental attention rush to her own thoughts, and confirmed he was unsettled deeply.

_You don’t seem well, Sylus. Are you certain you’re up for a match?_

… _Forgive me, Riven. I’ll re-focus. I don’t intend to take this less than seriously._

_What has caused your distress?_

_I… believe I have insulted someone I respect very much. They are specifically avoiding my association. It is a distraction I will excise from my mind during the match. I apologize for the disruption._

_It is not my business, but may I ask who you believe you’ve offended?_

… _Shyvana. I usually work with you or her, and she has… declined my requests this last week. I can’t be sure how I unsettled her, but she has taken matches with other summoners. I must have insulted her somehow._

_I see… thank you for informing me. Let us focus, though._

_Certainly, Riven. My thanks._

* * *

That was another element of Sylus she appreciated. He welcomed the champion’s input. Several times during the match, his efforts to focus had failed, but he made sure their combined presence fought with her instincts and let her guide the actions more directly. After each failure, he wasn’t a sniveling apologist, he simply refocused, and tried better. She could ask no more.

The match ended in a loss, but it wasn’t his failing. Their fellow summoner and champions had not synched well at all, and the battle had been a chaotic mess.

As the summoning ended, Riven reached out specifically to her summoner. _Have you spoken with her yet?_

_N-no. I don’t trouble any champions outside of official business. I know how busy all of you are._

_I recommend speaking with her. There may be another explanation. Strike with patience, not fear._

… _I will endeavor to follow your wisdom, Riven._

After the connection severed, Riven sat up, thoughtful.

* * *

Shyvana was morose. ‘Patrolling’ around one of Demacia’s worse-off areas, she was even more intimidating than usual thanks to the deathly expression haunting her face as she did so. One mugger stumbled onto her, and she fixed a look on him that made him giggle nervously, drop his dagger, and run for his life.

She sent a fire-blast after him just to drive the point home.

It didn’t help that the matches she had taken to avoid association with Sylus had been nightmarish examples of why she hated most other creatures. One of the summoners spent the entire match ogling HER body, and not paying attention to the fight. Normally she didn’t waste her time with such matters, but that fool she reported to the League, because his lack of focus got her killed. Four times. Privately, the main reason was his revulsion at her dragon form on top of the ogling of her human form body parts. He was lucky he wasn’t in the hall that day, or he would have been longing after his own body parts due to their swift and cauterized removal.

She felt like an idiot, a coward, and hated herself for it. She also had no idea how to resolve the issue. If she tried to find Sylus and actually have the original conversation she wanted with him, who would mistake it for some idiotic romantic fling like so many other champions got themselves caught in? That level of humiliation, the very idea of it, made her sick to her stomach.

Was she really more afraid of that embarrassment than of hunting down the dragon that killed her father?

The miserable answer was yes. Give her a thousand enemy dragons over this idiotic social mess.

“Shyvana?”

So few could sneak up on her like that. Shyvana’ eyes dilated, and she snapped around, armor-claws burning.

Riven was there, her free hand up and open, her sword down and easy at her side. “I intend no harm.”

Shyvana seethed, but slowly stood upright. “What do you want? How did you get to Demacia?”

“The same way you do, Shyvana. I am a champion of the League, and I have no official tie to the enemies of Demacia. This isn’t about our homelands, however.”

Shyvana narrowed her eyes. “Then what?”

“A shared acquaintance. Sylus Hale.”

Shyvana desperately tried to hide the twitch in her eyes. “What of it?”

Riven raised an eyebrow, then sighed lightly. “No one is spreading rumors about you, Shyvana. He summons me on occasion. I get the impression he only works with the two of us beyond isolated cases. On my last match as his champion, I noticed he was deeply troubled.”

Shyvana eased into a bit of concern. “How so?”

Riven actually offered a faint smile, her free hand resting on her hip. “He’s worried that he’s offended you. He respects you, and doesn’t know what he did to offend you. It’s none of my business, and if he did insult you in some way, you’re entirely right to ignore him. However, if this is just a misunderstanding… I would urge you both to speak.”

Shyvana glanced down to the side. It was an unexpected pain. Also, why did she care? Because it was that very respect she savored being twisted into a wound against him. The wound itself spoke of proof of his sincerity. “…Why do you care about such a thing?” she had to ask the other champion.

Riven sighed softly. “I find misunderstandings… sad. I would do my part to clear them, if I can. That is all I came to say, however. I will not disrupt your evening further.”

Shyvana watched the human warrior start to walk away, and eased after her a step. “I can’t find him.”

Riven glanced over her shoulder. “Are you really going to let that stop you?”

Shyvana started to smirk as Riven continued to walk away. _Now that’s a human I can respect._

* * *

It was a simple cottage in the woods. Small enough for a knocking door to be heard through the whole of it. A man with short, mildly graying brown hair trotted down some steps in his gray and black robes, and moved to the door.

When he opened it, he froze.

Shyvana stood there, a stern face hiding her own anxiety about the moment. “…Summoner Hale?”

Sylus blinked rapidly, trying to get his thoughts to start moving again. “M…my lady?”

At first, she’d been frustrated. The alarm at first sight might turn to disgust or other insipid response, but now it was becoming clear he was just startled out of his wits. She started to smirk. “Is that a yes?”

Sylus shook himself out of his stupor, and eased back. “Y-yes, my lady. I am. Please pardon the humble accommodations. I never entertain guests, especially not ones of your stature.”

She had to duck her head to step inside the cottage, but did so casually, taking the door from him to close it. She found she was a full head taller than the summoner, who was still quite at a loss for words.

“I thought we should speak,” Shyvana decided to begin, her armor glinting only a little in the mild light of the small home.

“Certainly! Pl-please, this way. Make yourself as comfortable as you like.”

Sylus hurried into his living room, just to her left after stepping inside. He was also starting to smile brightly. “Tea? Food? Water?”

Shyvana shook her head with a jangle of her armored ponytail, and eased down into a chair, but didn’t sit back. Rather she perched on the edge, leaning onto her knees with her elbows. “Please, sit.”

He dropped into a chair in front of her like an obedient student.

For once, as a very particular exception because of this odd mess she’d put herself in, Shyvana let her face show a sad expression. “Are you frightened of me?”

Sylus seemed to react more to her expression than her words. He’d started to respond instantly, but stopped, mouth open, and his eyes became shrewd, scanning her features. He started to shake his head. “No, my lady. I respect your temper, and I fear that I had insulted you. I act in fear when I don’t understand the situation, but it’s not because of you, my lady.”

Shyvana had to laugh down at the ground. There was a strange comfort in this conversation. An alien kind of sincerity, refreshing like a cool breeze on an otherwise windless day before you knew you were too warm. “…You didn’t insult me, Sylus. My avoidance of you was out of cowardice against… social assumptions.”

Sincere confusion danced over his features. “How so…?”

Sighing, she began, “A little over a week ago, I realized I wanted to speak with you. When I went to the League hall, I learned only then that you don’t really ever go there. I realized that my attempts to locate you were starting to look like… infatuation.”

A little blush marked his cheeks, and he blinked rapidly again. “You were worried people would think you were romantically interested in a summoner?”

A dark gray blush marked her own face as she looked aside. “Effectively.”

“…I certainly sympathize, my lady, I’m simply surprised. You didn’t strike me as the type easily affected by the false perceptions of others.”

She looked up into his eyes, unable to articulate the relief those words triggered. She half-smiled. “I’ve learned how politics work out here. I can handle it, but that incessant rumor-mongering would drive me mad.”

Sylus nodded. “Certainly. I’m very sorry to put you out, my lady. I simply prefer to keep to myself. If I’d known you wished to speak, I could have come to the hall without difficulty. My apologies.”

Shyvana shook her head with another soft jangle. “No, the situation is my own fault. It took a mutual acquaintance to remind me of what I should do, and for that I must apologize.”

“Mutual acquaintance?”

“Riven.”

Sylus blushed this time, scratching the back of his head. “Ah, I was hoping she would keep that conversation private. My apologies. My distraction over my fears of insulting you disrupted a match I had with her, so I felt… a certain obligation to explain things to her.”

“You choose who you respect well. She simply came to me and offered a reminder. No one else has heard of the issue.”

“I sense she made a good impression on you as well then?” Sylus asked with a soft smile.

Shyvana nodded.

“So my farewell on that last match didn’t bother you? I intended nothing overly familiar, I simply sensed some of your own troubles, and wanted to wish you well.”

She shook her head easily. “No, in fact it was welcome. That was part of why I originally wanted to speak. I… appreciate your respect. It is… rare.”

Sylus frowned. “I am deeply sorry to hear that. I should think you commanded immense respect from all who know you.”

Shyvana was starting to a smile a bit. “I am honored you think so, Sylus. In truth, that is all. I let this simple matter get blown very far out of proportion, and that caused you harm I did not intend. I wanted to apologize for that. Otherwise I would not have invaded your privacy.”

He chuckled. “It’s no invasion, my lady.”

“Sylus. You can call me by my name.”

He tilted his head down, locking eyes with her. That moment was like their matches, a deep level of shared connection. “You’re sure, Shyvana?”

She tipped her head. “I would say you’ve earned the use of it.”

He bowed his head. “I am honored you would think so.”

With a little nod, she stood up, exhaling. “I should likely return now. Again, my apologies for such… absurdity. This situation got out of my claws too easily.”

“It happens to the best of us, my lady. Nothing escapes your claws too easily,” he finished as he stood up to join her.

She smirked. “You just like calling me that, don’t you?”

“I do, Shyvana, but I haven’t forgotten what you said that quickly. It is just… my way.”

Shyvana eyed him for a moment, and then glanced off to the side, toward an obvious dining room.

“Would you like something to eat, Shyvana?” Sylus took the cue with polite warmth.

“If that is not too much trouble? I think I would like to speak further.”

He gestured to the dining room. “No trouble at all, my lady. What type of food do you prefer? I apologize, my selection will be a bit limited.”

A little blush came with, “Do you have any red meat?”

He smiled happily. “I just so happen to, Shyvana.”


End file.
